


Through the Darkness

by Fier



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, During Canon, F/M, Fever, Fever Dreams, Fox Mulder Angst, Fox Mulder Torture, Hallucinations, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Hurt Fox Mulder, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s05e04 Detour, Sick Character, Sickfic, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:42:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25617532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fier/pseuds/Fier
Summary: Scully and Skinner strive to reach Mulder through fever-induced hallucinations, following the events of the episode 'Detour'.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully, Walter Skinner & Dana Scully, Walter Skinner & Fox Mulder
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Through the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> **Title** : Through the Darkness  
>  **Author** : Kronos  
>  **E-Mail Address** : clb@eng.buffalo.edu  
>  **Rating** : PG  
>  **Category** : SA  
>  **Spoilers** : Takes place after Detour and spans Post Modern Prometheus  
>  **Keywords** : Mulder/Scully UST, Mulder/Scully/Skinner Friendship
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : The X-Files characters herein belong to 1013 Productions and Fox Broadcasting. Usage is made without authorization but with utmost respect.
> 
>  **Author Notes** : Since the feedback after my first short story, Fragile Fortress, was so positive, I decided to try another. I have always been a bit confused about the episode 'Post-Modern Prometheus' (which aired right after 'Detour') and this is my attempt to make sense of what it meant and how it fit into the show's timeline. Feedback is greatly appreciated and avidly anticipated.
> 
>  **Acknowledgments** : Thanks go to Sherry Hopkins for suggesting a follow-on to 'Detour'. My sincerest appreciation goes to Julie for beta-reading, making excellent suggestions, and continuing to keep me from using words which do not exist except in my own private dictionary.

The enmity was palpable, charging the very air. Mulder could feel it, there in the room, the animosity reaching with grasping fingers to prickle his spine and raise the hair on the back of his neck. He strode forward quickly and grabbed the suitcase off the bed, unwilling to spend any more time or energy trying to understand secrets he was convinced had remained hidden for almost five centuries.

He was too tired to struggle with it now. Way the hell too tired. And sore. He walked to the open door, but turned to look back into the room once more, convinced that the source of the hatred he felt surrounding him emanated from within. He considered the apparent emptiness once more, sweeping his eyes from left to right. The hesitation spanned only a few seconds, but was enough to cause his partner to sigh audibly behind him.

He reached to pull the door closed, the movement awkward as he still held the suitcase in his right hand. His left arm was pulled close to his chest, the hand slightly elevated so that the throbbing at his shoulder was reduced. The slightest movement sent streaks of pain shooting through his chest and his arm -- resonating through his head so that spots danced before his eyes. He'd learned not to move his arm over the past few hours.

Scully was waiting for him by the car and slammed the trunk lid shut after he put his suitcase in next to hers. He raised his right hand to his forehead and wiped at the sweat that had collected there. He saw that his partner was already moving to the driver's side, and he made no objection for once, thankful that he'd be able to rest for a bit. He focused on her more clearly, blinking slowly, and realized that she'd changed clothes. He walked around to the passenger's side and opened the door, then slipped in gingerly, careful not to jar his shoulder. The headrest offered a much-needed support for his pounding head.

Mulder sighed then, the exhaustion that had been creeping up on him finally taking its toll. He rolled his head to the left carefully as the car pulled out of the lot and onto the road that would lead them back to the forest. He stared at his partner for a few moments, remembering their joking camaraderie of the previous night. It had felt so good, despite the hunger, the pain, and the cold. He decided to dig at her a bit more and had to concentrate hard to get the right joking tone. It was becoming more and more difficult to think clearly.

"Hey, Scully, if I didn't know you better, I'd think you used the excuse of packing up our things as a way to grab a shower on the sly. But I know that couldn't be. I know you wouldn't come back to civilization and get cleaned up, knowing that your partner -- your injured partner -- was stuck with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum answering endless and meaningless questions for the local cops."

He smiled more broadly at the look of guilt that she tried to hide so ineffectively. And then laughed when she did, as she finally gave up the pretext of innocent ignorance.

"I'm sorry, Mulder, I couldn't help it. I could barely keep my eyes open and thought it might help to wake me up."

His heart skipped a beat as she turned towards him and smiled, saying, "And I have to admit, it did feel good to change into clean clothes."

He rolled his head back to the front, still smiling and closed his eyes. The idea of a shower and clean clothes teased him, taunted him, invaded his thoughts and consumed him. God, that would be heaven. To be clean and warm. A chill ran unbidden down his spine, causing him to move slightly in the seat. He had to bite his lip to keep in the gasp as the shooting pain reminded him why it was best to stay still. He started breathing once more as the pain began to fade away and he opened his eyes, turning his head to the left just enough to verify that Scully hadn't noticed anything. An overwhelming sense of relief washed over him as he saw that she was concentrating on the road and not on his physical condition.

She'd had enough to worry about lately. She certainly didn't need his groaning and whining to add to her plate. He swallowed awkwardly, his throat dry and scratchy, and said, "So, any idea whether we can catch a flight out tonight? What's the plan?"

His partner responded immediately, saying, "I had the Tallahassee office make some travel arrangements for us. We're all driving there together. There aren't any connections that'll get us home that late, so I'm afraid we'll be stuck there overnight but our traveling companions will be able to catch a flight out since their only going to Atlanta. We can drop them off at the airport on the way into town."

He rolled his head towards her once more, tearing his eyes away from the unending blend of trees and underbrush that had filled his vision, and replied, "Does this mean we have to listen to their furniture tower building adventures for the next three hours?"

She grinned at him before replying. "I suppose we could both claim exhaustion and sleep all the way there." After a brief pause she added, "Or pretend to sleep at least."

He summoned a wry grin he didn't really feel and said, "I think I could manage the real thing, Scully. No pretending necessary." He closed his eyes then and concentrated on not allowing his chest to move when he breathed. It was a bit tricky, breathing being so important to the human condition after all, but he managed to get pretty close to complete nonmovement.

He heard a rustling to his left, but ignored it, concentrating on the simple task of breathing without moving. It was taking all his energy, so he missed the fact that his partner kept looking at him.

Her voice got through to him, though, when she said, "Hey, Mulder. You don't look too good. Are you feeling all right?"

The small smile found its way to his face almost immediately, and he was filled with warmth at the knowledge that his partner was worried about him. He dragged his eyes open and turned his head towards her, careful not to jostle his left shoulder, and looked at her. She was tense, sitting straight and tall in the seat, eyes now staring at the road ahead. But every once in a while, she'd glance over to look at him for a few seconds before dragging her eyes back to the road once more. Her forehead was scrunched in concern and her lips were pursed, as if she were fighting to keep from saying something she might later regret.

"I'm okay, Scully. Just tired." He thought back quickly to all the times he and Scully had played the 'I'm fine' game and decided that for once, he'd avoid falling into that trap. He opened his mouth to tell her about his shoulder, but she'd turned back to the road and was already speaking to him before he got the chance.

"I can understand that. So am I. It'll be great to get back home."

He was tired of rolling his head back and forth so kept it where it was, allowing him to watch her as she drove. He was content to merely gaze at her, and to listen as she spoke. Despite what she'd claimed about not being able to carry a tune, her words were always like music to his ears.

She turned towards him again and smiled before saying, "I forgot to tell you, Mulder. When I called the Tallahassee field office, the secretary told me they were in the middle of a five year review. A team's been organized with members from various offices across the country and they just started yesterday. Guess who's heading it up?"

He was confused for a few moments, unsure where she was going with the question. Then he remembered Skinner's last words to him as he left the office in disgust after being told about the team building seminar. The AD had said, 'At least it'll keep you out of trouble for part of the time I'll be gone.' Shit! Just what he needed. He groaned audibly at the realization that his boss was going to be in the very town they were headed to tonight. His boss who'd specifically sent them to the seminar to keep them out of trouble. His boss who'd be pretty ticked to discover they got involved in a case of five hundred year old Moth men when they were supposed to be good little role-playing agents.

He was slightly perturbed when Scully laughed at his groan. She turned to him and said, "I can't wait to see Skinner's reaction to the news that you managed to get out of yet another teaming workshop. Please let me be there when you tell him the details, Mulder. It'll be like an early Christmas present, okay?"

He had to laugh, in spite of the pain it caused. She was right, of course. Skinner would not be pleased. Not at all. "Actually, I was thinking that maybe you could tell him, Scully. Preferably when I'm not in the room."

"Oh no you don't. This one's all yours to explain. You are not going to push this one on me. Not this time."

He smiled again, then couldn't help the grimace that came to his face when she came to a stop next to the tree stump exhibit. The seatbelt pulled against his chest, causing his breath to catch and the sweat to flow once more. He pulled his left arm close to his chest, gripping it tightly with his right hand, intent on maintaining immobility. The pain wasn't getting any better. In fact, it seemed to be a bit worse. A lot worse, actually.

He swallowed hard and concentrated on next moves. He could see that a crowd of police still roamed the area, with a few K-9 teams sprinkled throughout the group. Their two traveling companions were sitting at a picnic table, looking their way and appearing slightly irritated at being stranded without transportation. Mulder knew that he'd left somewhat precipitously and probably owed them an apology.

He started to unfold himself, preparing to get out of the car, when he realized that Scully was staring at him again in concern. "Mulder."

He pulled the car door closed a bit and waited, understanding that more was coming. His partner was obviously trying to find the right words.

"Mulder."

It seemed that every time she was ready to actually say something beyond his name, she stopped, struggling to strike the right chord. He decided to rescue her. "I'm okay, Scully. Really. I'm tired and my shoulder and head hurt. It's not like either of those things is particularly unusual, you know. Not after the night we had."

He waited for her slow nod before smiling at her again, then turning to open the door. He wanted to get in the back where he wouldn't have to deal with Tweedle Dum. Hopefully, Scully would also move into the back seat with him so Tweedle Dumber would leave them alone as well. He wasn't in the mood or right frame of mind to be generous to the two other agents. After all, they'd slept in a hotel room last night. They'd eaten dinner and probably had breakfast this morning. They were clean and had on clothes that didn't smell like decaying, putrid flesh, blood, and dirt.

Mulder bit the inside of his lip as he stood up straight -- blinked his eyes quickly to clear the vision that had clouded over from the increased pounding in his head and the shooting pain in his shoulder. He decided that after they dropped the other two agents off at the Tallahassee airport, he'd confess all to his partner and ask her to drive him to a hospital. Of course, a trip to the emergency room would also have the benefit of creating just enough sympathy from his boss that Skinner might not get too pissed with him.

He smiled to himself at that thought, in spite of the agony, and opened the back door. He slipped in quickly and settled himself, thankful that his partner was off talking with the two other agents. At least she hadn't heard his groans and gasps. He slowly pushed the sleeves of his shirt up, suddenly feeling overheated, then bunched his jacket up in the corner and leaned back. It felt good to be still. It felt good to have the support against his back and neck. It felt good to cross his left arm against his chest and pull it in tight with his right. It felt good enough, in fact, that he closed his eyes and drifted off, no longer feeling the need to resist succumbing to the tiredness that pulled at him. Sleep was a welcome release from the pain that had plagued him for hours.

* * *

Scully finished up with the police officers and walked back to the car with the two Atlanta agents. She saw the female agent start to move to the rear of the car and said, "I'll sit in the back with Mulder, if you don't mind. I'd really like to stretch out a bit and maybe get a little sleep on the way to Tallahassee."

"No problem, Agent Scully."

Scully was a bit irritated with these two. They still hadn't caught on to the fact that she and her partner preferred last names only. Every sentence out of their mouths had an agent this or an agent that in it. She nodded politely and moved around to the driver's side, then opened the back door and slid in with a sigh. They would be on the road soon, and in just a little over two and a half hours would be pulling into the Tallahassee airport. Then it would be just her and Mulder. At least until Skinner caught wind they were in town.

She smiled to herself and looked over at her partner, then froze. She was turned awkwardly, with one hand pulling the seat belt across her body, but instead she let it go and scooted a bit closer to the middle of the back seat. Mulder was obviously fast asleep, but didn't appear to be resting very comfortably. In fact, it looked like he was hugging his left arm close to his chest and it seemed that every breath produced a slight frown on his flushed face. A light coating of sweat dotted his forehead, yet he appeared to be shivering from cold.

She reached a hand out to his forehead and felt the heat emanating from inches away. Agent Kinsley was turned in his seat, staring back at her, a confused and concerned expression on his face. "Everything all right, Agent Scully?"

She wasn't sure how to answer. Was, in fact, tempted to have the police call an ambulance. She reached for her partner's right wrist, disengaging it just slightly from the death grip he had on his left arm, even in sleep, and wrapped a few fingers around it to check his pulse. There didn't seem to be anything majorly amiss. Perhaps just a tad fast. She looked at him closely again and decided that it could wait until they got to Tallahassee. It was reasonable that he was just worn out and had gotten sick from being out all night. She was with the paramedics when they dressed his shoulder wound and was confident of the care they'd given it. Besides, she was pretty sure Mulder would object strenuously to any suggestion of a hospital at this point.

She allowed her arm to drop slowly, then shifted back to her side of the car, eyes still intent on her partner. Then she made a decision and looked back towards their fellow agents and said, "No, it's okay. I think Mulder might have picked up a bug. I'll keep an eye on him. Let's go." She grabbed Kinsley's discarded jacket and draped it over her partner, careful to tuck it in gently. Then she buckled herself in, slowly, still debating her course of action.

She was still uneasy, still unsure whether it was the right decision. But he'd acted fine earlier, just tired and sore. It wasn't really so unusual that he'd be run down after spending the night outside in the cold forest, on the hard ground, with no blankets and no food. Especially after being swiped by that Moth man. A shiver ran through her at the thought, as she remembered the eerie green and brownish skin that blended into the surroundings, chameleon-like in both tint and texture.

She angled herself in the seat so she was braced against the corner of the back and side, much the way her partner was, and then settled in to watch him for the next two hours. But the incessant chatter from the front seat, the whir of the air conditioner, and the monotonous road noise lulled her into a doze, against which she had little power to fight. She was vaguely aware of the two agents in the front seat discussing a case of a woman who had claimed to have been held captive and impregnated, but she couldn't summon the energy to concentrate on their words. The banter washed over her and she fought to keep her eyes open so that she could watch over Mulder, but it was impossible. She fell asleep finally, her last thought being that she had to figure out a way to convince Mulder to rest once they got to Tallahassee. Maybe even see a doctor.

* * *

The car hit a bump, causing his head to jerk against the barely cushioned metal frame. His eyes flew open and he fought back a gasp as the pain overwhelmed him momentarily. Mulder blinked furiously, self-conscious of the fact that he wasn't alone and that crying like a little kid would probably not do much to enhance his already tainted reputation in the eyes of the two Atlanta agents. He clenched his jaw and released the grip he had on his left arm long enough to raise his right hand to his head. There wasn't a bump there, at least not yet, but with his luck it would surface soon. In the meantime, his entire head was pounding in tempo to the music Kinsley had playing softly on the radio. The tune, something that sounded like an old song by Cher, was soothing and melodious, but only served to send stabs of pain pounding through his already abused head.

He licked his lips and tried to calm his shaky breathing. Pulled the folded coat up further in the corner behind him so his head wouldn't be forced to slam into the side of the car again, then tried to settle back once more. He glanced to his left and saw that his partner was curled up in the opposite corner, obviously not bothered by the occasional bump in the road.

He closed his eyes tightly and tried a biofeedback approach. After a full minute, he knew it was useless. He'd just have to wait it out until he could have Scully get him to a doctor where, hopefully, he'd get some good drugs for the unending pain in shoulder and head. He listened to the music for a few moments before deciding it was just way the hell too sugary for him, and then focused on the light banter of the two agents in the front seat.

Kinsley was saying, "But there was supposedly evidence that she'd had a tubal ligation. You can't exactly fake something like that, you know."

To which his partner replied, "But perhaps it wasn't a hundred percent successful, in which case her claim of being impregnated by a two-faced mutant monster is an obvious defense mechanism. She just doesn't want to face the reality that she became impregnated with her eighteen year old son in the house."

"First of all, I don't think her son was even there. He was off at some concert or something. And she claims that the son was also a product of a similar type of ... violation nineteen years before."

"You see? She used the excuse before and it worked so she's just grasping onto it again. I mean, come on. A two-faced monster breaks into her house and impregnates her and absolutely no one even realized she was gone for three days? It sounds like she belongs on the Jerry Springer Show. It sounds like a case for Agent Mulder."

He smiled internally at the comment and thought to himself, just before drifting off again, that it did sound intriguing. Maybe he'd look it up when they got back to DC.

* * *

The chattering by her ear finally started to make sense, especially when the arm shaking her shoulder grew more insistent.

A female voice was saying, "Agent Scully. We're here."

"Mmmm. I'm awake." Scully opened her eyes and looked around quickly, taking in their surroundings. Airport. Tallahassee. Wonderful. She turned to the right then and saw that Mulder was still asleep, still looking as if he were uncomfortable and still red-faced with a fever. She released her belt and moved closer to him, feeling his forehead as before. It didn't really seem to be any worse, but the idea of a doctor or even the emergency room was starting to grow on her.

A voice interrupted her musings. "Agent Scully, we really need to get going if we're going to catch our flight. Do you need our help with anything?"

She turned back to the woman and smiled, then slid across the seat and out, slowly closing the door behind her. "No, that's all right. You two go. Thank you for driving all the way."

They exchanged quick hand shakes all around and soon Scully was left standing alone with the keys in her hands. She glanced in through the back window again and decided directions to a hospital were definitely in order. No more putting it off. She slipped into the driver's seat, adjusting it for her height, then pulled out her cell phone. It rang twice and then was answered by the same secretary she'd spoken to earlier in the day.

"Janice," she said with surprise, "this is Agent Scully. What are you doing there so late?" She glanced down at her watch to make sure she hadn't completely lost track of the time and was reassured to see it was, indeed, going on nine at night.

"Oh, Agent Scully. I'm so glad you called. I'm helping the AD with some files he wanted to review tonight. He's a bit of a stickler, isn't he?" The secretary was obviously smiling at the other end of the line and evidently hadn't expected an answer because she was already speaking again. "Agent Scully, when the AD found out you and Agent Mulder were going to be arriving here tonight, he requested that I have you stop by the field office. My impression is he's anxious to talk with you before you head back to DC in the morning."

The woman sounded apologetic, evidently knowing this would not be welcome news. Scully paused and sighed heavily, trying to decide what to do now. She reached up and adjusted the rearview mirror so she could see her partner more clearly.

Janice's voice sounded concerned when the woman asked, "Everything all right, Agent Scully?"

"Actually, no. In fact, I was calling to get directions to the nearest hospital. Agent Mulder was injured last night and I'm a bit worried about him. Is AD Skinner there? Perhaps I could speak with him quickly."

"I'm so sorry to hear about Agent Mulder. I do hope he'll be okay. The AD's just in the other room. If you'll hang on for a minute, I'll tell him you're on the line and transfer the call."

"That'll be fine. Thank you, Janice."

Scully reached up with her free hand and rubbed at her forehead. It had been an extremely long couple of days, filled with tension, frustration, confusion, and most importantly, very little sleep. She glanced in the rearview mirror again and then turned around in the seat to get a really good look at her partner. He hadn't really moved the entire trip. His forehead still seemed to scrunch every once in a while as if in response to some worry or, more likely, pain stimuli. She wanted to get someplace where she could check that shoulder again.

She jerked a bit when a familiar voice came on the line, deep and resonant. "Agent Scully, Janice informs me that Mulder was injured and you're going to the hospital. Could you fill me in, please?"

She nodded, then realized the gesture would do little good over the phone. "Of course, sir. We were on the way to the seminar when we got stopped by a roadblock. As we were waiting to pass through, we discovered there was a missing persons case. We sort of got involved in it and ended up, through a series of events, getting stranded in the woods overnight. Agent Mulder had been attacked by something the previous afternoon -- yesterday -- and while the wound wasn't particularly serious, spending the night in the damp cold hasn't done him any good."

She had to give her boss credit. The man didn't seem the least bit phased to discover they'd gotten involved in a case and been in a life-threatening situation -- again. "Agent Scully, where are you now and what is Mulder's condition at present?"

"We're at the airport, sir. We just dropped off the two Atlanta agents. Mulder's been sleeping ever since we got on the road. I wouldn't say his condition is serious, but I do want him checked out."

"All right, Scully. I'm putting Janice back on the phone. There's a hospital not too far from us. What I'd like you to do is come here first. If anything changes before you get here, give me a call. I'll have Janice give you my local cell number, as well."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

She heard a muffled conversation and then the sound of the phone being jostled. Then Janice was back on the line giving her directions.

Some forty minutes later, after a wrong turn which brought her over the river accidentally, she pulled up in front of the Tallahassee Field Office. She started pulling out the cell phone to let her boss know they were there when she heard movement from the back seat. When she turned to look back, she saw that Mulder was awake and gazing out the window blearily.

"Hey, partner. How are you feeling?"

He turned back to her, obviously a bit fuzzy from just waking, and said, "Not too bad." There was a brief pause as he looked straight at her and grimaced slightly. "Not too good, either."

"I kind of got that impression, Mulder."

"Where are we?"

She watched him shift in the seat so he could see out the window a bit easier. Saw the clenched jaw, the scrunched forehead, the tight grip he still had on his left arm. But she answered as if nothing were amiss. "We're at the Tallahassee Bureau. AD Skinner wanted to talk with us. I was just about to give him a call to let him know we were here."

She was a bit surprised to see her partner reach his right hand over and pop free the seat belt, then reach for the door handle. "Don't call, Scully. Let's go say hi. Don't you think he'll be happy to see us?"

She had to smile at the playfully innocent expression he'd adopted. She laughed and said, "I think he'd be happy to see us in one piece with stories about furniture towers. Somehow, I don't think he'll be thrilled with the story you're going to tell him."

She jumped out of the car then and started around the other side, keeping her eyes on her partner. His movements were overly controlled, but jerky nonetheless. It was obvious he was trying to minimize movement of his upper body so that when he turned to her, he turned completely around with no twisting at all.

"Scully, what do you mean the story I'm going to tell him? I thought we'd established that you were going to break the news. Don't you remember? I have a very clear recollection of the conversation."

She smiled as she came even with him and responded, "Don't pull that eidetic memory crap on me, Mulder. It doesn't give you the right to make things up out of thin air and pass them off as something I've forgotten. I remember the conversation, too and according to my recollection, you were going to break the news as an early Christmas present for me. Is it becoming more clear now?"

They were close to the door and Scully moved ahead to grab it and swing it open for her partner with a flourish. He had to be feeling lousy since he didn't make any cracks about the gesture at all. She looked at him carefully as he passed and saw the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Noted the flushed features, drained of almost all energy. Yet he was still moving, still standing straight and tall, even though she could see the fingers of his right hand were white from gripping his left arm so hard.

She moved next to him again and carefully placed her right hand on his right hand, not wanting to touch the left arm at all. "Mulder, I'd like to stop by a hospital after we meet with Skinner. I think we need to get that shoulder looked at."

She was surprised by the almost relieved look he gave her. "No arguments from me, Scully. This shoulder's killing me here." He closed his mouth but it seemed that he was considering saying more. She saw him chew the inside of his lip for a second and sensed he was debating with himself. She gave him another few moments and then, sure enough, he went on. "Actually, Scully. My head is killing me, too. It hasn't gotten any better at all. In fact ..." He paused again and stopped walking, then turned his entire body towards her before continuing. "It's gotten much worse over the last few hours and I keep alternating from boiling up to freezing cold. I think I might have a fever."

She could tell the admission cost him and wanted nothing more at that moment than to have the ability to take all the hurt away. "I know, Mulder. To tell you the truth, I already filled Skinner in a little and told him we'd be going to the hospital. He said there's one not too far from here. I hadn't really intended to make you get out of the car here at all. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier."

Before even allowing him to respond, she walked around to his other side and took his right elbow to help guide him. "Come on, partner. Let's get this over with so we can get you into bed."

She smiled when he joked in a strained voice, "Agent Scully, are you propositioning me?"

She shook her head in mock disgust and searched out the right hallway. Janice had given her directions earlier and she knew Skinner was on the second floor in a conference room. As they got in the elevator, Mulder leaned back against the wall carefully and closed his eyes. It seemed that he was in a great deal more pain than she'd realized earlier and now regretted even getting out of the car. The last thing he needed right now was to be walking around when every movement sent shooting pains through his shoulder and head.

The doors opened and she took his arm again and guided him to the right. If she remembered correctly, the conference room was just down this hall. She couldn't help looking up at her partner's face every few seconds and what she saw there was disturbing. She wasn't sure how much more he'd be able to take tonight.

Her face must have reflected her fear and worry because as they turned the corner into the conference room, Skinner looked at her first and froze, then glanced over at Mulder quickly. She saw his eyes narrow as he assessed his agent's condition and then he was moving towards them in long steps.

"Agents, it's good to see you. Mulder, it looks like you could use a seat."

She watched her boss pull a chair out solicitously and gesture Mulder towards it. Her partner seemed to collapse into it slowly, giving in to the chance to relax overtaxed muscles. He was breathing heavily now and the sweat that had lightly coated his forehead for hours was now running in streams down his face. The effort required to bring him this far had obviously been too much.

Without even thinking, the back of her hand was on his forehead. After a second or two, she flipped it over and ran it through his hair, pushing the wet strands away from his face. He never even moved. Just sat with eyes closed tightly, shivers running through his body occasionally, right hand once more gripping his left arm tightly. She cursed internally, angry that she hadn't realized how serious this was earlier. Instead, she'd allowed her partner to exhaust himself on a useless trek through this building.

She sensed movement behind her and turned her head back to see Skinner standing close, a worried expression on his face. He said softly, "Is he all right? Should I call an ambulance?"

She turned back to Mulder and saw that he either hadn't heard, hadn't registered the words, or just didn't care any more what the outcome would be. He hadn't moved at all. One thing was sure, she definitely wasn't going to have him trekking through this building again. She turned back to the AD and nodded quickly, then watched for a movement as he moved out of the room to make the call.

She was alone with her partner again so she leaned closer, ran her hand over his head gently and whispered, "Help's on the way, Mulder. You'll feel better soon. I promise."

She wanted to apologize. Wanted to tell him how sorry she was for not realizing how much pain he was in and how bad he felt, but she knew he wouldn't appreciate it. That wasn't how they operated. So she kept the feelings of guilt to herself and continued to whisper to him reassuringly.

* * *

When Mulder opened his eyes outside the Tallahassee Bureau, his first reaction was to look for the brightly lit emergency room sign. He was sorely disappointed to see nothing but a brick-faced block building. He found himself incredibly tempted to tell Scully about his aches and pains, but then she delivered the news about the AD. Oh well, might as well get it over with.

The walk to the front door of the building seemed way the hell too long and he could feel his muscles protesting even before they reached it. Jesus, at this rate he might not even make it to wherever the AD was camped out. Scully's hand on his arm was reassuring and somehow helped to keep him moving. The elevator ride had been a little bit of heaven because he'd been able to lean against the wall, allowing his shaking legs a modicum of relief.

But then he was having to walk down the hallway again and all he could think about was not crying. He couldn't remember feeling this miserable in a very long time. He was alternately shivering from cold and then burning up. His head seemed to be encompassing the timpani section of the philharmonic, with the kettle drum leading the pace. The shoulder was the worst, though. The damage from Scully's bullet from a couple years before was nothing compared to this. In fact, he'd much rather have a bullet wound at this point. Anything other than the fire and streaks of pain that resided there now, reaching even further with every hour. It wasn't just localized to the shoulder anymore. His entire chest was on fire and breathing was starting to get more difficult. His upper arm felt completely bruised, both numb and in pain simultaneously. He'd never experienced anything like it before.

When they entered the conference room, he was vaguely aware of his boss acknowledging them and then walking towards him. He was, however, very much relieved when a chair materialized in front of him and Scully's hand was pulling at him to sit. Just what he needed. He gave up the fight to actually pay attention to what they were saying and instead concentrated on not falling out of the chair.

A hand was at his forehead, soothing, reassuring, and he knew Scully was there next to him. He had to close his eyes even tighter then because the urge to lean forward into her arms in tears was growing into a very real and powerful thing. He had to focus every bit of his energy now to just maintaining control. Just for now. He knew Scully would take care of him. Knew Skinner was there to make sure she got whatever she needed.

He had no idea of how much time had passed, but all of a sudden, someone jarred his shoulder and he heard a strangled scream echo through the room. Long moments later, he realized it had been him. The part of his mind that made note of this fact was no longer aware of pain or hot or cold. He felt disassociated, disconnected from his body. This part of his mind, of which he was aware, took over and started leading him away from the activity of the conference room. Away from the hurt and suddenly bizarre images flitted past his closed lids.

Some part of him was thinking that there was a case out there for him to solve and if he could just concentrate, he'd be able to find the key. He started remembering details, recollecting little bits of knowledge that he'd heard from somewhere. He couldn't even remember where he'd heard them anymore. But there was this woman who'd claimed she was impregnated by a monster after she'd had her tubes tied. It was intriguing. It was interesting. And he needed something to think about. Something to wrestle his mind around, else the recognition of his actual state might drive him mad.

He allowed the thoughts to take him away, to lead him off into a black and white realm of surreal landscapes and people that were much more engaging than anything he had to look forward to in reality. And he became a part of the fantastic and bizarre world in his mind. Became an active participant. Reached for it with relish and threw his entire being into solving the case of the mysteriously impregnated woman.

* * *

Skinner was worried. He'd seen his agents hurt before, had seen Scully sick and dying with cancer, but seeing Mulder ill and weak, seemingly unaware of his surroundings, threw the AD for a loop. Oh, there was that time the man had called in sick with the flu. Skinner tried to remember back and seemed to recall another time or two when Mulder'd had a cold or something. But the man had never had a serious illness, and somehow, Skinner found he was more prepared to deal with gunshots and explosions than he was with illness. And despite the shoulder wound, it was obvious from his first look at the younger man that Mulder was ill.

He'd instructed Janice to show the paramedics up, had already called the hospital to let them know a Federal Agent was on the way, and now stood in the doorway, alternately looking down the hall towards the elevator and back into the room to where Scully knelt next to her partner. He could hear Scully whispering even from the door, but then heard Mulder mumble something. He glanced down the hall again and then decided to trust the secretary to bring them in quickly. He moved into the room to kneel down next to Scully.

She looked frightened and he wanted to reassure her, but another close look at Mulder made his blood run cold. The man was completely out of it. His eyes were open but glazed and unfocused. It was obvious he wasn't seeing what was in front of him. Mulder was staring straight through him, showing no indication of awareness, and then his agent mumbled something. And he could swear he heard the name 'Cher' stuck in the middle of a string of unrecognizable words.

He glanced over at Scully, thinking she might have heard more, but saw that she was just as confused. And then the paramedics were  
there, moving quickly into the room and laying out a stretcher and various pieces of equipment. The taller of the two men turned to him and Scully and said, "Could you fill us in a bit, please?"

He deferred to Scully and listened as she outlined the series of encounters of which he himself hadn't totally been previously aware.

"Yesterday afternoon we were tracking a kidnapping suspect in a heavily wooded and deserted area when our party of four was attacked. Two of the officers we were with disappeared and Agent Mulder was attacked by something. Some ... creature. It clawed his shoulder, leaving marks approximately six to eight inches in length. Agent Mulder was in shock and was forced to sleep on the cold ground with no shelter. This morning, as we were preparing to leave, he ... fell into an underground cave, injuring his shoulder once more. It was several hours before we were rescued. The paramedics dressed the wounds at the scene, but Agent Mulder has continued to worsen and started running a fever several hours ago. I know that he's been struggling with a significant amount of pain in his shoulder as well as his head all day and I believe this has also worsened in the last few hours."

The two paramedics had been nodding continuously throughout her The two paramedics had been nodding continuously throughout her nearly monotone delivery and now had Mulder hooked up to various machines and an IV. They moved him onto the stretcher with a well-practiced lift and shift maneuver, and then the one who hadn't spoken yet said, "When was he last aware of his surroundings?"

When Scully paused, Skinner jumped in to fill the void, saying, "Approximately twenty minutes now. He managed to walk in here on his own, but I think it wiped him out. He sat down and then basically phased out on us."

Skinner swallowed against the dryness that gripped his throat and then licked his lips nervously. It appeared they were ready for transport so he turned to Scully and said, "Why don't you give me your keys and I'll drive your car to the hospital." When she nodded gratefully, he held out his hand for the keys and as she dropped them into his hand, he took the opportunity to grip her fingers for just a moment. He leaned down and said, "He'll be fine, Scully. You go with him. He'll feel better knowing you're there. I'll be right behind you."

He watched the two paramedics take his agent away, Scully hovering as close as possible. He shook his head, partly in anger and partly in frustration. It seemed these two just couldn't get a break. He moved quickly then, telling Janice to go home even as he was passing her in the hallway. "I'll be at the hospital. You can reach me by my cell if you need me. I'll check in with you tomorrow and let you know where I'll be."

He was racing down the hallway then and taking the stairs two and three at a time. So what if the secretary saw him. He was worried about his agent and wanted to get to the hospital as soon as possible. Besides, it looked like Scully might need a friend tonight.

* * *

Scully was used to holding Mulder's hand in these circumstances, but with the left one injured, and the right somehow still gripping his left in a deathhold, despite the straps across his chest, she was left with nothing to do with her hands. She gripped them tightly and rested them on her lap. She couldn't take her eyes off her partner's face. His eyes were still open, as they had been ever since the ambulance was called, but it was clear that whatever he was seeing was not what she was seeing. His lips moved continuously as he mumbled words in an unending stream. They weren't spoken frantically or urgently, but rather with conviction and steadfastness. She couldn't for the life of her figure out what he was talking about.

At one point, she heard him say something about peanut butter and decided he must be hungry. After all, neither of them had eaten for well over thirty hours. She leaned closer and whispered, "Mulder, you get a little better and I'll make you a huge peanut butter sandwich. With a little jelly. Or maybe raisons or a banana. How does that sound?"

He seemed to mumble something about an empty jar and all she could do was reassure him that there was plenty more peanut butter in the world. A part of her felt self-conscious talking with her practically unconscious partner about something like peanut butter sandwiches, but when she glanced at the paramedic, he merely nodded at her encouragingly.

She knew the ride couldn't have been more than just a few minutes, but it still seemed as if it took an eternity. She pushed the back door of the ambulance open herself even before the attendants could get there and waited impatiently for them to unload her partner. Then they were inside and directions were being fired off right and left. She started to follow the stretcher into the examining room when she was stopped by an army of nurses, all seemingly intent upon making her fill out myriad forms that essentially signed her partner's freedom away. She was rescued some minutes later by her boss, who was standing next to her suddenly. He stared at the poor woman behind the desk with such a dour and menacing expression that even Scully was taken aback at first.

But then he looked down at her and smiled slightly, saying in a kind voice, "Why don't you track down Mulder, Agent Scully. I'll take care of this." She'd never liked Skinner more than she did in that instant. She raised her hand to his arm and whispered 'Thank you" before turning and slipping into the door where they'd taken Mulder.

She assessed the activity quickly and moved towards the far right corner. They'd cut his shirt off him and removed the bandage and even from ten feet away she could tell all was not well with the shoulder wound. The doctor caught sight of her as he was cleaning the injury but before he could object she pulled out her identification and said, "I'm a doctor and I'm Agent Mulder's partner. I'm also staying." The doctor shut his mouth and ignored her after that, which was just fine with Scully.

The man turned to the woman to his left and asked, "Temp?"

She replied without hesitation, "104.3".

The man shook his head, as if in disgust and ordered an aggressive treatment of antibiotics, along with a cooling pad. He said, "In the meantime, get that fan pointed this way."

Scully was shocked at the pronouncement, having not realized previously just how sick her partner was. She was again consumed with guilt and cursed herself for not recognizing that Mulder needed a hospital sooner. Of course, the paramedics at the scene in the forest hadn't thought it was warranted. Perhaps it really had gotten so much worse in just the last couple hours.

She was jolted back to reality when her partner started mumbling again. The words weren't clear. Were, in fact, jumbled so that nothing much made any sense. But at one point she could swear he said something about 'mutant flies' and 'experiments'. It was unnerving and she could tell that the medical staff was just as thrown as she was.

The doctor looked at her in confusion then and she sensed that her approach would not be rejected this time. She moved closer and stood in a gap between two nurses, close to her partner's head. She brushed the sweat-soaked bangs off his forehead and rested her hand on his head, hoping the contact would reassure him. Would somehow get through to him in whatever dark place he was. She leaned forward a bit, then, saying, "Mulder, it's me. Everything's fine. We're at Riverside Hospital and the doctors here are going to make you feel better. I promise. No experiments. No ..." She glanced over at the doctor again then decided hell with it. "No mutants and no monsters, Mulder. Not here and not now. You're safe."

She continued to speak softly even as the doctor and nurses worked, but wasn't at all sure that anything was getting through to her partner. They were preparing to move him to a room when he suddenly jerked his head to the right and said, very clearly, "Frankenstein." It was all quite mystifying and she could only pray that the world he was lost in would treat him kindly until he found his way through the darkness and back to her.

* * *

He'd seen it, running through the trees in the dark night, outlined just briefly against the moon behind. Its voice had echoed eerily through the night, sounding oddly lonely and frightened. He wanted to see this creature. This two-faced monster who broke into women's houses, incapacitated them in some way, played songs by Cher, then left them pregnant.

This farmer who'd offered to show him and Scully the real monster had left them with Dr. Frankenstein, who proceeded to lecture them about genetic manipulation of the most vile kind. For once, he was much more shocked than his partner, whose familiarity with genetic experimentation and manipulation far outpaced his own.

He'd known, after talking with this man for just minutes, after seeing his lab and his experiments, that this was the true monster. The man disgusted him. Made him almost physically ill. He couldn't get out of the man's presence fast enough.

And now, they were faced with townspeople who seemed more interested than getting their faces on Jerry Springer than on discovering whether there was a rapist and kidnapper in their midst.

At least Scully was with him. At least he wasn't alone on this one. He glanced away from the road to look over at her and smiled. He was just set to say something to her when a striped tent caught his eye over to the left. He slammed on the brakes and backed up. This was the explanation. He just knew it. This was why no one had thought twice about not seeing their neighbor for a couple days. And Scully agreed with him. Thank God for Scully.

* * *

Skinner had gotten an update before entering the room where his agents were. The doctor and nurses were trying to bring Mulder's temperature down, concerned with possibilities of lasting damage if it remained elevated for too long a period. Or even worse, if it rose. He'd spoken with the doctor who seemed somewhat mystified by the injury, claiming he'd never seen anything like it before. He claimed there was a foreign substance growing in the wound and wasn't at all sure whether it was bacterial or not. He'd sent samples to various labs, and had appeared relieved almost when Skinner suggested using the Bureau labs in Tallahassee and Jacksonville as well. Skinner arranged for samples to be hand-delivered to the local lab as well as to the airport and had already contacted the necessary technicians and scientists at the two facilities. Everything was being expedited and they should know something within a few hours.

He pushed the door open slowly and saw Scully sitting next to her partner's bed, holding his right hand tightly with her left. Her back was to him and her head was bent down, appearing as if she were asleep, but then he saw her raise her right hand to her face and could only guess she wiped at her eyes.

He took another step into the room and cleared his throat, allowing her a moment to collect herself. He walked around to the other side of the bed and looked down at his agent for a moment before turning his gaze across the bed. He said, "Agent Scully, how are you doing?"

She smiled at him, obviously struggling for calm, before answering. "I'm fine, sir. Thank you for taking care of the paperwork."

He merely nodded, then looked down at Mulder again. It was eerie. That was the only word for it. The man's eyes were wide open and at one time, he could swear Mulder had looked right at him. But it was obvious his agent was not registering what he was seeing. The younger man's lips were still moving, even though nothing was really audible at this point.

Skinner was not a demonstrative man and couldn't remember ever touching his agent except to wrestle him into submission after the hallway fiasco and to occasionally shake the man's hand. But Mulder looked so lost, lying there. So very innocent and helpless. He leaned forward and placed his right hand very gently on his agent's head, for just a moment, and said, "Mulder, I don't know if you can hear me. I hope so. Scully's here and I'm here and we're both kind of worried about you. I think Scully would like to talk with you. You need to work at coming back to us. Work hard at it, and come back to us soon."

* * *

The smoke was gone when he opened his eyes again but his throat was practically raw. He looked around for Scully and was filled with relief to see her awake and struggling to get off the floor, right next to him. He coughed as he pulled himself up and staggered into the kitchen behind the scientist and police. He had to solve this case. He knew that if he could solve it, that somehow things would be better. It was important that he solve it.

He was dizzy and his head hurt. His eyes stung and watered, making it difficult to see clearly. Scully looked as miserable as he felt and he wished he could make it better for her. There was a pan on the stove and it had the same mark as the one they'd seen before. It felt awkward in his hand as he lifted it and waved it in the air. He knew that mark was important for some reason. As he stumbled across the room, barely able to stand, the trash can revealed its secrets and the empty peanut butter jar was telling. He was on the right track here, he knew it. And if he could just find the key, find the little bit of evidence necessary to crack this case, then he could go home, with Scully, and everything would get back to normal.

* * *

A couple of tense hours later, Mulder was no better, but no worse. Scully leaned back into the chair again and shook her head slightly, then turned to look towards her boss. "It sounded like ... 'frying pan'." She didn't know whether to smile or cry. Whatever was going on in her partner's head somehow involved a jumbled nightmarish world of two-faced monsters, frying pans, and Cher. God only knew what he was thinking, but knowing Mulder as she did, she was sure it all made sense somehow.

Skinner had evidently decided that a smile was the way to go and she finally joined him with one of her own. Then she said, for no real reason she could identify, "When we were trapped in that underground cave, Mulder saw the words 'Ad Noctum' carved into a pillar."

She could tell Skinner was trying to work it out and then he said, "Into darkness?"

She nodded and replied, "That's right. Mulder said the Spanish Conquistadors would post those words as a warning. He speculated that it had been written there close to four hundred years before, and that those who had posted the warning were attacking us for ignoring it. They were defending their territory."

She could see her boss considering the words and knew he'd arrived at the conclusion Mulder had tried to make when he cocked his head, dropped his chin, and raised his eyebrows. He said only, "The same men? After four hundred years?"

She smiled again and nodded, then said, "He called them 'Moth men'." She grew more serious again as she went on. "But I have to say that I've never seen anything like it, sir. These creatures -- men -- they blended in so completely with their background that you could only really see them by their glowing red eyes. I don't know what they were, but I killed one in the cave, maybe even the same one that had injured Mulder. It was ... bizarre."

Skinner shook his head a bit and said, "I look forward to reading Mulder's report on it."

She was so grateful to her boss suddenly that she felt her throat tighten and her eyes water. She swallowed and fought off the tears before saying roughly, "Thank you, sir."

He seemed to understand what she was saying because he smiled just slightly, one side of his lip curling upwards minutely. He nodded and leaned back in the chair, then turned towards her partner. Mulder was still mumbling away, despite the numerous drugs coursing through his system, and some of the words could be made out again. Both she and her boss leaned forward, almost as one, to try to catch what Mulder was saying.

Skinner looked over to her and said, "I swear he said 'Mask' and 'Cher' and something about a 'son'."

She nodded in agreement and replied, "That's what it sounded like to me, too. And maybe 'dead'. I don't know. I'm not sure." She shook her head in frustration and stood up, felt her partner's forehead again and cursed internally. He wasn't cooling down at all. She was tempted to check the wound, but knew the doctor would be in again soon. She squeezed his right hand in her own and leaned close to his ear, whispering, "Keep fighting to come back to us, Mulder. We're here. I'm here and I'd love to hear all about where you've been."

And then the oddest thing happened. He blinked and she could swear he was actually looking at her instead of through her when he said, "Scully, you're in color." Then he blinked again, his eyes unfocused once more and the unrecognizable mumbling continued. She'd been stunned momentarily. Completely caught off guard. But now she turned to her boss, hoping that maybe he'd have an idea of what that was all about.

He had taken a stance just across from her when Mulder spoke and now stared at her, hesitation clear. But finally he said, "Maybe he's dreaming in black and white?"

She thought about it and decided it made a strange kind of sense. Looked back down at her partner and thought to herself it was a damned good thing he didn't share his nightmares with her on a regular basis. She wasn't at all sure she could keep up or keep sane.

He seemed to grow more restless then, head tossing slightly from side to side. She was ready to ring for a nurse when the doctor came in. He took in Mulder's irritation and moved quickly to her side. He checked temperature and vitals and turned to her with a concerned expression.

"Temperature's up. We'll have to ice him soon if we can't get a handle on this. It's getting dangerously high." He turned to her boss then and said, "It would sure help if we knew what that substance was. Any chance of getting a report in soon? Our labs are still working on it here."

Skinner said, "I'll check," and pulled his phone out, even as he was heading for the hallway. She followed his progress out the door and then looked down at Mulder again. He'd closed his eyes finally and she wasn't sure if this was a good sign or bad. She was filled with terror at the thought that he was giving in to this dream world. That he wasn't trying to get back to them. To her.

She leaned in close again, right by his ear, and whispered, "You're kind of scaring me here, partner. You're supposed to be getting better now, not worse. You have to fight this. You have to come back to me. I need my best friend beside me, Mulder. Please fight this."

She was almost shocked when he opened his eyes again and turned his head just slightly in her direction. He mumbled again, but she heard the word 'fire' clearly. He was somehow faced with fire in his dream and she couldn't help thinking the fire that raged through his body was responsible for fueling his imagination.

She watched as the doctor inspected Mulder's shoulder wound. She rested her hand on his head and said, "There's no fire, Mulder. You're safe. I promise. No fire will get you. I'm here and I'll make sure."

He seemed to settle down then, no longer as restless as he'd been, but it was clear that this was not necessarily a good thing. She sat back in the chair and gripped his right hand tightly. Then bent her head to the bed, resting it wearily next to his arm, and prayed for his safe keeping.

* * *

Skinner shut the cell phone with a sharp snap and strode quickly to the counter down the hall. He identified the nurse he'd spoken with earlier and gestured to her, saying, "A fax will be coming in any time. It's the report on the substance found in Agent Mulder's wound."

The woman nodded in understanding and moved across the cubicle to check the status of the machine. It was coming in already and he could barely stand the wait. He knew that those pages held the key to making his agent well again. When the transmission ended, the nurse handed him the sheets and he headed to Mulder's room immediately.

He glanced at the papers in his hand but could make no sense of the long words. He only prayed that Scully and the doctor would be able to. He opened the door and entered quickly, then handed the pages to the doctor without a word. The man scanned the first page and passed it across to Scully, then did the same with the second and third pages. Skinner watched their expressions grow confused, concerned, and then finally intently determined. He hoped it meant there was hope. Scully's words confirmed it.

"So it's just a matter of attacking it with the right antibiotics. We've been completely off the mark with the types we've been giving him."

The doctor nodded and left the room without a word. He turned to his agent then and said merely, "Scully?"

She looked excited and it spread to him like a palpable thing. She said, "We thought it was something like a staph infection but we were completely wrong. The antibiotics we've been giving him haven't been able to attack the bacteria. Once we pump the right one into his system, we should see a quick turnaround."

He was relieved to see her smile and watched as she leaned close to her partner again and whispered to the man. He caught the words, "You'll feel better soon ... promise," but missed the rest of what she said.

Then the doctor was back with two nurses trailing along and he and Scully both backed up and watched them work. When the team left, looking somewhat relieved, he and Scully both moved closer once again. He sat down when she did, confident now that they'd see improvement soon.

He was a bit surprised to hear Scully speak out loud and then realized she was speaking to him.

"You know, sir, I was originally supposed to debunk Mulder's work. That's why they assigned me to him. I always figured the X-Files was assigned to you once they figured out that I wouldn't lie to serve their agenda. I assumed you were intended to keep up both in line."

He looked at her with interest, wondering where she was headed with the thought.

"I never really knew whether I could trust you or not. Not until recently. But Mulder did. From the very beginning, he trusted you. I always thought that was strange because Mulder never trusted anyone or anything. Except me, eventually. But he does trust you."

Skinner felt honored for some reason. Honored that Scully was telling him these things and honored that his problematic agent trusted him so completely. He swallowed and considered saying something in response, but then decided it wasn't really necessary. He nodded and gave her the first heartfelt smile he'd felt in a long time, then turned back to the man lying so still now on the bed.

And he realized, as he stood looking down as the man, that he trusted Mulder, too. Trusted his judgment and his abilities. Above any of the other agents under his command, these two were the most competent and capable. And he liked them both. A lot. Cared about what happened to them.

He thought back to the past year and couldn't help the sigh that escaped. They'd had a hellish year. Even more so than unusual. Maybe he could do something to make life easier for them. Give them both a boost. Maybe get them to go on vacation or something. He'd have to think about it. He saw that Scully was settling into her chair again, so he moved to sit as well. Before he did, though, he rested his hand on Mulder's head once more, and leaned down to whisper, "Hurry back, Mulder. I think I want to hear where you've been, too."

* * *

Mulder knew this wasn't right. Frankenstein was supposed to be punished, not the monster. The monster was supposed to go free, to seek his true love. Everyone deserved a true love. He knew this. Was absolutely sure about it. "Where's the writer? I want to speak to the writer." Mulder demanded.

He could tell that Scully was saddened but resigned to what she perceived the monster's fate, but he wasn't prepared to give up so easily. He would demand a different ending. He knew he had that power. He had that control. He could make it happen if he wanted it badly enough.

And he did. They were in the car, the wheel gripped loosely in his hands. Scully was next to him and he could feel that she was pleased at what they were doing. The music surrounded them, emanated from the speakers to wash through them, even as the surreal caravan traveled to fulfill the monster's desire. It was right that they should do this and he was happy that Scully had agreed with him.

They were there finally, sitting front and center, the townspeople all around. He felt so happy, so content. More so then he'd felt in a very long time. And the music swelled around him, as Cher came onto the stage, singing 'Walking in Memphis'. And she was kind to the monster. So kind and generous that she took him up on the stage with her. Mulder could feel the smile on his face and knew, suddenly knew, what he had to do. He'd never get another chance like this and if the past year had taught them anything, it was that you couldn't let opportunities slip through your fingers.

He stepped in front of her and turned sideways, extending his hand down towards her suggestively. He saw her pause in surprise initially and a little part of him was frightened that he'd made a mistake. But she reached out then and put her hand in his, and he knew it was right. Knew that her hand belonged there, in his. He pulled her up and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. She was smiling at him, brightly, happily, and he knew they would be all right.

They danced to the music, smiles large, and he was so filled with happiness that he started thinking this couldn't be real. Surely he didn't deserve such peace. Such contentment. Was it really possible that this could be his life?

And a little niggling doubt started to take over, to grow within him, even as he fought to continue the dance, to hold Scully close to him, warm and protected in his embrace. But it started to fade away, began to disintegrate even as he struggled then to maintain the dream as his reality. And he cried out 'No' as it faded finally from view.

* * *

After an hour of almost no movement whatsoever, the sudden restlessness from her partner was disconcerting. He started tossing and turning, causing both her and her boss to stand and move to his bedside. The fever hadn't broken yet, but she was confident that a breakthrough would come at any time. She spoke to Mulder reassuringly, making random comments about nothing, but quieted abruptly when he yelled out 'No' with such heartfelt despair that she was tempted to hug him.

Instead she squeezed his right hand again, ran her left over his forehead and through the damp hair, over and over, and said, "Mulder, it's Scully. Everything's okay. Can you hear me? Come on and wake up. Open your eyes and look at me."

And to her utter surprise and amazement, he did. He looked right at her, eyes staring straight at her face, and said in a rough voice, "But I didn't want to stop. Why did we have to stop?"

She glanced across to her boss who merely shook his head, not understanding any better than she did. She looked back into her partner's eyes then, and knew that this was critically important. She was almost afraid to ask, but knew that she had to, whether Skinner was there or not. "Stop what, Mulder? What did we stop?"

"We were happy. Cher was singing 'Walking in Memphis' and we were really happy, Scully."

She felt the tears in her eyes then, and knew that neither of them had been really happy in a very long time. Her partner must have found a place for both of them in his dream where they had been. And then he'd been brutally pulled away from the reality he'd created.

"We were happy, Mulder? What were we doing when Cher was singing?"

Her partner was obviously tiring, could barely keep his eyes open. But he whispered, "We were dancing. You're a wonderful dancer, Scully. But I didn't want to stop."

She didn't care that her boss was standing four feet away. She leaned down and kissed Mulder on the forehead and said, "I'll dance with you again, Mulder. Just as soon as you're better you can claim that dance. I promise."

Her partner smiled at her words and drifted off then, but for the first time, she was sure he was just sleeping, and the smile lingered even as he slept.

She looked across to Skinner, embarrassed now at her actions, but he looked ... satisfied. He smiled at her and said, "Now that's the kind of dream I'd like to have. Scully, it looks like the worst is over. I need to check in at the office for a bit and then I'll come back and pick you up. I've already made arrangements for a hotel. It's not far from here, so you'll be able to get a few hours sleep, have something to eat, and then get back here in the morning well rested before Mulder even wakes up."

She opened her mouth, prepared to protest, but then closed it abruptly. The man looked determined. And she was exhausted and she was starving and she could use a shower. So she nodded to him, a wry grin tugging at her mouth. "All right, sir. You win. Could you stay with Mulder for just a minute while I go speak with the doctor. I want to let him know that Mulder was aware for a bit."

She waited for Skinner's nod before leaving. On the way out the door, she thought to herself that it was a good thing they both trusted Skinner so much, because the man could definitely use that little interaction against them both. Thank God the man was above such pettiness.

* * *

A week had passed and if he hadn't been there himself, he would have doubted that his agent could have been so seriously ill. Today was Mulder's first official day back to work and he'd convinced the guards and secretaries to help him out with his little welcome-back present. Skinner glanced down at his watch and prayed that Scully wouldn't disappoint him. For this to work, his guess that she'd be picking Mulder up had to pay off. If they came in separately, he just wouldn't be able to coordinate it all.

He practically skipped down the stairs, feeling inordinately pleased with himself. This would be fun. His cell phone rang and he answered, "Skinner," even as he arrived at the basement level. The guard in the parking garage reported, "Targets entering." There was a pause of some forty or fifty seconds and then the man said, "Targets parking".

He responded, "Thanks," and disconnected. So far so good. He pulled out the key and opened the X-Files office, moving quickly to close and lock the door behind him. Besides a few support staff, no one else knew what he was up to this morning and he wanted to keep it that way. He moved around the room, making sure everything was in place, and then decided all was in order.

His phone rang again and he answered it. This time it was the secretary outside the elevator bank by the car garage. She said, "Targets in elevator."

Shit, he was moving too slowly. He took the envelope out of his pocket, grabbed a piece of tape, opened the X-Files office door and stuck it to the front. He closed the door quickly and heard the ding announcing the arrival at the other end of the hall. He had just enough time to make it around the corner before he heard their voices. He could hear them talking and then Scully laughed at something. Then, to his surprise, Mulder did too. He hadn't been sure the man even knew how to laugh. Well, good. They both might need a sense of humor to appreciate his little welcome back present. Or maybe not.

He heard their voices again, more serious this time, and he knew that they'd seen the note he'd left on the door. It was clearly marked 'Agent Scully', and he could imagine his agent opening it slowly, afraid of what might be inside. He'd decided to keep it simple, so he'd written merely, 'A promise is a promise. Skinner.'

He heard a soft 'humph' followed by Mulder's "What?" He could almost sense the wheels spinning through her head, and was pretty sure he heard her say, "Hang on. Let's go inside." He heard the door open, then close. Waited another few seconds, then peeked around the corner. At the other end of the hall, he could see one of the secretaries, Lorraine, also looking out from behind a wall.

He took a few steps. Waited. Then took a few more until he was only a couple feet away from the closed X-Files office door. He glanced at his watch, wondering what the heck was taking so long, and then he heard it. 'Walking in Memphis' could be clearly made out, the first strands wafting under the door. He smiled and rubbed his hands, quite pleased with himself, and headed down the hallway to the elevator. Lorraine raised her right hand up in the air just before he got to her and with a smile, he reached up with his own hand and gave her a high five. Mission accomplished. Job well done. Damn, he was good.


End file.
